


You're Only as Perfect as He Thinks You Are

by TheRaven



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Anal Sex, Blowjobs, M/M, Tentacle Sex, Unsafe Sex, eldritch abomination!Cecil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-22 15:25:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRaven/pseuds/TheRaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil and Carlos have their first time. It's not what Carlos was expecting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Only as Perfect as He Thinks You Are

Carlos can't quite remember how they wound up back at his apartment. Something about scientific anomalies and Cecil's tongue down Carlos' throat. And it is an ample tongue. Carlos gasps when Cecil curls his tongue around the shell of his ear and flicks gently at the sensitive skin along his jawline. He could swear Cecil's tongue is forked, but when he returns to kissing him, his tongue is more or less normal.

He loses his lab coat and Cecil loses his oddly-cut tailcoat somewhere in the vicinity of the kitchen, and their shoes wind up in a muddle on the border of kitchen and living room. The scientist in Carlos wants to go back and put everything in neat little piles, but he's a bit busy at the moment with rucking up Cecil's shirt and running his hands along his ribs. Cecil breaks their kiss to pull his shirt over his head, forgetting that it's a button-up, and pulls Carlos' up and over his head as well. These they manage to leave somewhat neatly on the sofa.

By the time they make it to the bedroom, Cecil is in his underwear and one sock and Carlos is in his boxers. Carlos takes a moment to catalog the different sounds Cecil makes when Carlos nips at his throat and runs his calloused thumbs over his nipples. Cecil has to pull him away from his neck some time later because he gets so engrossed in these sounds. Carlos blinks at him and realizes belatedly that they've both removed their glasses at some point. As a man of science, he should really be more observant. But he was distracted.

He has Cecil in his bed, legs spread and face flushed, and he struggles out of his boxers with extreme haste. Cecil's eyes widen.

“Oh,” he says simply.

“What?” Carlos asks, suddenly feeling very self-conscious.

“Well,” Cecil says, and bites his lip, and pulls his own underwear down and off.

The first thing Carlos notices are the tentacles. Plural. One primary one jutting from his pubic bone like a curled penis, but at least half a dozen smaller ones ringing a slit directly below the primary tentacle. He can't count them because he keeps getting distracted by their movement. He bites his lip to keep back a yelp when one of the secondary tentacles reaches out toward his wrist.

“I, uh, did not expect this,” Carlos said quietly.

“Oh,” Cecil said. “Is that bad?”

“No! No, it's not bad at all.” Carlos blushed dark. “I just didn't expect it, that's all.”

Cecil blinks.

“Do you want to stop?” he asks, almost too quietly to be heard.

“No, I just, just give me a minute.” Carlos closes his eyes. “This just isn't, you know, normal where I'm from. I'll get used to it. Just. Give me a minute.”

He takes a deep breath and places his hand on Cecil's hip. A secondary tentacle brushes the inside of his wrist and makes him shiver. What should he do here? Cecil is clearly embarrassed, and while Carlos is unnerved by the state of Cecil's genitals, he doesn't exactly want to call this off. He opens his eyes and makes up his mind.

“I am a scientist,” he says emphatically. “I should examine this unusual anatomy with the utmost care.”

Cecil smiles. “Do you need a tape recorder?”

“Actually, yeah.” Carlos stumbles off the bed and smiles sheepishly. “One second, okay?”

Cecil makes a sound like a mix between a giggle and a snort. Carlos races to the kitchen, where he's filled a drawer with scientific equipment. He should have some in his bedroom, really, but he spends so little time there it's almost not worth it. He finds a tape recorder and a small microphone and returns to the bedroom, where Cecil's tentacles are probing at his slit while he writhes on the bed.

“Sorry,” he says breathlessly. “They have a mind of their own sometimes.”

“That's more than okay,” Carlos says, setting up the recorder on the bedside table. “Observation one: Cecil appears to have a number of semi-sentient tentacles in place of the usual genitalia.”

Cecil grins and pulls him down to kiss him. Secondary tentacles wrap around his dick and his balls. Cecil looks a little embarrassed by their forwardness but ruts against him all the same. Carlos gasps into Cecil's throat and the microphone and works a hand between them to disentangle the tentacles so he can break away and slide down until his shoulders are level with Cecil's hips.

“Observation two,” he says, “There appears to be a slit not unlike a vaginal opening between the secondary tentacles. It is--” He slips a finger into the slit, and Cecil moans-- “It is slick with a discharge or mucus and ridged at least as far as my fingers reach.”

“Are you going to make notes on all of this?” Cecil asks with a gasp as Carlos adds another finger.

“Maybe,” Carlos says shakily. “Depends on how long I can keep my focus with you falling apart like this.”

He removes his fingers and palms a secondary tentacle experimentally.

“Observation three: the secondary tentacles are smooth, except for the pair directly under the main tentacle, which have minute suckers on them. They were dry to the touch at first but now--” Cecil moans again, distracting him-- “now they are shiny and slick with moisture.”

Cecil, impatient, pulls him back up and kisses him again. The microphone falls from Carlos' hand and to the side, picking up the wet slide of flesh on flesh, though Carlos won't notice it until he reviews the tape later. He lets Cecil's tentacles curl around him again and slowly pump his cock between them while Cecil's hands roam his body.

“You're amazing,” Carlos says, pupils blown wide and lower lip swollen.

“So are you,” Cecil replies.

Carlos spreads his legs to give Cecil better access and nips along his jaw. Cecil's tentacles shift, the two lowermost probing past his balls and snaking toward his hole. He starts when one slick tentacle eases into him and whines into Cecil's mouth.

“Is that okay?” Cecil asks, worried.

Carlos nods, overwhelmed.

“It's more than okay,” he gasps. “Just—hold on.”

He fumbles through the bedside table and finds a small bottle of lubricant. He pulls away from Cecil just long enough to douse the tentacles in the lubricant, including the two that still try to reach for his hole. They writhe for a moment, spreading the lubricant around, and he spreads his legs again as he settles over Cecil once more.

“I want to make love to you,” Cecil says, low in his ear, and Carlos melts. “Is that okay?”

He almost laughs at the formality of it all, but then the second tentacle works its way into him and all he can do is pant and nod vigorously against cecil's shoulder.

“Thank you,” Cecil says.

He shifts so that Carlos is riding higher on his hips and withdraws the secondary tentacles. Carlos whines from the loss and bites him at the junction of shoulder and throat when the primary tentacle slowly starts to work its way into him. Two secondary tentacles were not enough to prepare him, but he can't bring himself to ask Cecil to stop, to wait. He just feels the slow stretch, the deep burn of it, and bites harder.

“You're beautiful,” Cecil chokes out, gripping him by the hips. “Oh my god you're beautiful.”

Carlos sinks further on the tentacle and shudders with each centimeter.

“Oh god,” he gasps. “Cecil, oh god, Cecil.”

Unconsciously, Carlos moves his hips.

“Fuck,” Cecil cries. “Carlos.”

Cecil swearing makes Carlos give a bark of laughter. He grunts and sinks further onto the tentacle, then pulls back. Cecil gasps. They start up a shaky rhythm, Cecil whimpering and cursing and Carlos unable to keep from grinning. Then Cecil shudders and tenses under him, hips jerking upward a few times, and relaxes.

“I'm sorry,” Cecil says almost immediately. “I should have waited for you.”

Carlos carefully pulls off of the tentacle, panting.

“It's fine,” he says, and Cecil pushes him back on the bed.

“Let me take care of you,” he says.

Cecil sucks him off exactly like he's imagined in his late-night fantasies, delicately and methodically. Carlos resists the urge to fist his hand in Cecil's hair and fuck his throat, but only just. His hands clench in the sheets and his hips stutter upward until Cecil gently holds him down. Cecil swallows him down until his nose brushes his pubic bone, and Carlos can't even warn him before he comes down his throat.

Cecil swallows, also delicately, and pulls off of him with a small wet sound. Carlos throws an arm over his eyes and just breathes for awhile, barely registering Cecil looming over him until he finally moves his arm away from his face again. Then he notices that the shadows are a little...off somehow.

“Are you doing that?” he asks blearily.

“Doing what?” Cecil asks innocently, and the shadows go back to normal.

“Oh, so you were doing that,” Carlos laughs. “God, Cecil, there's so much I'm going to have to get used to with you.”

“Is that bad?” Cecil asks, draping himself over Carlos and nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

“No,” he sighs. “It's wonderful.”

He reaches over to the tape recorder, which is still on, and switches it off without thinking. He'll replay the tape later and furtively get himself off in his lab while his assistants are on break, but for now, he doesn't realize the recorder picked up all of their lovemaking. He just sets it to the side and throws an arm around Cecil's waist to pull him closer. Even the tentacles don't phase him much anymore, all things considered.

“Do you think maybe you could...fuck me later?” Cecil asks, tongue fumbling around the unfamiliar expletive.

“Oh God,” Carlos utters. “God yes. But just. Give me a minute. I really like this. Right here.”

Cecil wriggles closer and throws a leg between Carlos'.

“Take as much time as you want,” he sighs. “This is perfect.”

And really, it was.


End file.
